


This Is Not Happening

by idella



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/F, F/M, Incest, XF Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-21
Updated: 2008-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-08 04:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idella/pseuds/idella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder isn't dead.  Scully isn't pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Not Happening

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the xf_pornbattle on livejournal. Many, many thanks to lsugaralmond for the brilliant beta.

These are the things that aren't happening in Dana Scully's life in the late winter and early spring of 2001.

*

Mulder isn't dead.

Scully isn't pregnant.

She doesn't notice Father McCue at Mulder's funeral. There is no funeral.

She doesn't quietly break down for no apparent reason at work one day. Agent Doggett doesn't pretend not to notice.

She has never told A. D. Skinner to fuck off and leave her the hell alone.

She doesn't stop going to church again.

Margaret Scully doesn't admit to her daughter how lonely she is. Scully doesn't hear any reproach in her voice.

Father McCue doesn't make house calls.

Scully doesn't confront her priest about copping a feel off a dying woman four years ago. She doesn't say that at the time it was a needful reminder for her to look to life instead of death. Or that she kind of liked it.

Mrs. Scully never lets herself into Scully's apartment without knocking first. She never sees anything that could be considered compromising to anyone.

Scully doesn't have inappropriate sexual fantasies involving inappropriate people. She doesn't wake up in the middle of the night, wet with arousal and flushed with shame.

Her mother doesn't mention that maternity clothing today is so much sexier than it was back when she had her own children. She doesn't ask if Scully's breasts are tender, or squeeze them to demonstrate what she's talking about.

Scully doesn't fall asleep watching porn in other people's empty apartments, her hand still shoved down her panties.

She doesn't get into a car accident. She is a careful, meticulous person and she doesn't have any reason to be distracted at crucial moments.

Father McCue doesn't come to the hospital, Scully's mother isn't there, and there are no awkward silences.

Margaret Scully doesn't come over one evening and feel for little feet kicking inside her daughter. Her hand doesn't stray, doesn't drift bellow Scully's belly, and Scully doesn't come.

Scully doesn't talk about what happened to anyone.

She has never been on her knees in Father McCue's office, choking on his cock until tears come to her eyes. Her cunt doesn't get as wet as her face.

She doesn't have any baby names, child care providers, pre-schools or colleges picked out.

Scully doesn't have nightmares. She doesn't wake up to find her mother kissing her hair, her cheeks, her mouth, whispering that she'll always take care of her baby girl. Scully doesn't find she has fewer bad dreams after a shuddering orgasm under her mother's tongue.

She isn't sleeping in her parents' bed again.

She doesn't buy fish food, fish, or anything else for an aquarium that still holds a miniature spaceship.

She doesn't see Father McCue's hand linger on her mother's neck one Sunday after she starts going back to church.

Scully has no idea how many adults can fit into a confessional.

She isn't going to need a bigger bed.

Father McCue doesn't like to watch. Scully and her mother don't like the attention.

Scully doesn't sit on Margaret Scully's face, listening to her priest cry out in ecstasy as he ejaculates inside her mother.

Father McCue never pretends to be anyone other than himself, and he doesn't encourage other people to, either. He doesn't look pointedly at Scully's stomach and say it's obvious who's going to play the whore this time.

A doctor, a priest and a widow don't walk into a bar together, and they don't leave several hours later, arms linked, singing "Joy to the World" out of key.

Scully doesn't get off on being fucked in the ass by Father McCue at the same time as her mother laps at her pussy. She doesn't have the best orgasms of her life.

She doesn't sit on Father McCue's lap while her mother kneels in front of them. This doesn't remind her of visits to see Santa Claus and she never, ever wishes for things she can't have.

Scully doesn't question her judgment or her beliefs or her sanity.

She isn't going to hell.

END


End file.
